


Tides

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She sees him standing on the shore and is intrigued. <br/>He sees her in the shallows of the water and becomes curious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tides

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anneweaver (camseydavis)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=anneweaver+%28camseydavis%29).



> This has been something Laura and I have talked about for awhile now. This is completely dedicated to her.

_1883 -_

She’s unsure of how far she has traveled, the sights looking all too similar when she surfaces. It’s an endless expanse of sandy beaches and cliffs illuminated by the moonlight. There is no one else around her, the other members of her family having stayed back when she had expressed wanting to go; they were content with staying in the English waters.

She can see a man standing alone on the shore and she watches as he begins to pace down the coast. He seems nervous, she decides, like he's expecting someone to show. She follows his movements and keeps her head lowered as she swims along the shore parallel to the pacing man.

" _Fitz._ "

She watches the man turn at the sound of what she can only assume to be his name. A young woman is standing on top of the hill that leads to the town, looking down on the sandy shore with disgust. Jemma, the girl in the water, lowers her head below the surface; when she brings her head back up both the man and the woman have gone. She is left alone in the moonlight.

Jemma spends her night in the waters near the shore and wakes to the sound of several voices speaking loudly from the sand. She listens to them, keeping her head below the surface.

"Were you waiting for someone?"

"I told you, I couldn't sleep." Jemma recognizes the man's voice, Fitz's voice, as he speaks to who she presumes to be family. "I came down to clear my head."

"You didn't see anyone?"

"No."

Conversations cease after this and hesitantly Jemma lifts her head just above the surface. She sees him standing alone on the shore just as she had the night before. He’s looking down the coast, his arms are crossed tightly across his chest as he begins to pace along the sand in a way similar to the previous night. Carefully, Jemma raises her head higher above the water’s surface and swims closer to the shore. Though she’s unsure as to what will happen if he sees her, she’s curious.

When she watches him turn his head back towards the expanse of water, she panics and drops her head below the surface with a sudden splash. She waits for him to call out to her, accuse her of something she’s sure she hasn’t done. When silence falls over the shore, Jemma lifts her head. He’s standing at the water’s edge; the waves that come in lap at his bare toes. When he gives her a wave, as if beckoning her closer, Jemma ducks her head back under and swims farther out into the water.

As she moves she can hear his voice calling to her, "Miss, what are you doing?"

She remains submerged, fixing her eyes on the few fish that swim around her. When she turns her head back towards the shore she can see a pair of feet in the water slowly inching their way closer to where she hides. As the feet approach where she is, Jemma swims farther out into the open ocean; she knows he won't follow her this far.

"What the hell are you?"

She can still hear him and gives a little laugh before swimming away in the opposite direction of the cliffs.

* * *

The following day she appears at the shore just before sunrise, sitting herself in the shallow waters. She admires the blues and greens of her tail and runs a sandy hand through her hair while she waits.

Today, she vows not to flee.

The sun climbs higher in the sky and still she sits, keeping her eyes fixed on the hills that lead down to the shore and ready to catch the first glimpse of Fitz as he stumbles down to the water. When she sees him she tenses, worrying that she has made a mistake in waiting for him. Her hands push deeper into the submerged sand, stabilizing herself as he draws nearer.

“You,” she knows he is addressing her when he speaks, walking down to the water’s edge. “Who are you?”

She takes a breath, “My family calls me Jemma.” There is a slight tremor to her voice when she speaks, though she sits herself up with exaggerated confidence. Waves crash against her back and roll onto the shore; Fitz takes a step back when they do. “I know what you’re thinking. Please, just say it.”

“What the hell are you?”

In response, she flicks her tail upwards, its tip appearing above the surface before settling back down onto the ocean floor. “I believe your people call us mermaids.”

“You’re a -” He takes a moment, placing a hand to his mouth and beginning to pace along the shore. She remains stationary, only turning her head to watch as he paces. He’s startled, speaking aloud about all of the myths and legends he’s read concerning merfolk and related species. “You’re a myth.”

“I’m right here in front of you.”

“I’m dreaming.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jemma turns herself over and swims farther out into the ocean, now keeping her head just above the surface, “I’m as real as you are.” When she doesn’t respond she ducks her head under and begins to swim away, angry with herself for thinking that speaking to the human was a good idea.

She’s unsure of where she’s going but sees a collection of rocks on either side of her that extend for several feet. When she brings her head above the surface, she’s in a cavern. The sound of dripping water fills her ears as she turns about her surroundings. It's calming; the heavy waves don't seem to cross into the cavern. There's a stillness about the place that causes a little smile to form on Jemma's lips.

She wonders how far it is from where she had met with Fitz and swims to the opening, peeking her head out and seeing nothing but the waves. It is not until she swims out from the cavern and peers around it's corner that she sees the shore where Fitz still stands. His hands are in his coat pocket and an agitated expression is on his face.

Jemma doesn't go back to him, but turns and swims into the cavern. She lowers her head below the surface and decides to further explore her findings.

* * *

It's two days later and she's alone in the underwater cavern. Few fish swim around her though she doesn't take notice of them. When she looks up towards the surface she sees something drawing near, a long strip of something dark. Jemma keeps her head below the surface, swimming over to the object and placing her hands on its frame. She doesn't recognize the material nor the object.

"Jemma?" It's his voice she hears above the surface, his voice coming from the unfamiliar object, "God, this is insane."

She brings her head up, fingers holding onto the wooden frame of Fitz's boat - an object she has scarcely seen in her years of traveling the seas. The ones she has seen have always been bigger with large sails and many voices, nothing like the one Fitz rides in.

"You found me."

Fitz looks down, startled to see Jemma peering up at him. "Yeah, I saw you coming out of here a few days back. I finally got the, uh, courage to see if you were still here."

"Well, here I am."

The only sounds that pass between them now is that of the water dripping off of the rocks. Jemma keeps her eyes fixed on Fitz while he looks around the cavern. When he does speak, it's not directed towards Jemma, "I never knew this was in the cliffs. I used to stand above here without ever looking below."

"You're so human. You never care to look below; you're always concerned with what's on top. That's why you were so surprised when you first saw me, wasn't it?"

"Or maybe it was because you have a _tail_."

Jemma takes her hands off of the boat and swims a few feet away from him. "Do you have anything else you wish to say to me?"

"Are you alone?"

She nods, "My family didn't want to travel somewhere unknown. I wanted to explore, to see the different things that thrive in other parts of the sea, or even on shore," she gives him a smile and begins to swim around his boat. “Now I’m here, wherever here is.”

Fitz turns around to face her, informing her that she’s in the North Sea, near one of Scotland’s shores, “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“And you don’t grow tired of seeing the same things day after day?”

He shakes his head; he likes the consistency of knowing exactly where he is and how to get to where he wants to go. “Besides,” he adds, “I’d miss my mum too much.”

Jemma swims closer to him, placing her hands back on the frame of the boat and looking up at him, “I’m sure my parents don’t miss me much. My father thought everything I said was nonsense and mother listened to him over me.”

“That’s how dad was before he left. Mum still thinks I’m speaking another language when I talk about my inventions, but she tries her best.”

The two continue to talk for the rest of the afternoon, recounting stories of their past and sharing in one another’s company. An easiness has washed over the two of them; no longer are they afraid of the other. A sort of friendship has come over them.

It’s early evening when Fitz complains of being hungry and Jemma swims beside him out of the cavern and around the corner that leads to the shore. She waves goodbye to him as he rows back, a warm smile on her lips when he waves back. She turns back, dropping her head below the surface and entering back into the cavern. She hopes to see his face again tomorrow.

* * *

Every morning at sunrise she is out in front of the shore, waiting to see Fitz stumble down the slope and onto the sand. She waits for him to push the boat into the water and swim out to her.

Every morning at sunrise she is disappointed.

She’s unsure of how long it has been since she has last seen him, somewhere between four and five sunrises coming to mind as she floats in the shallow waters. In actuality, it has been a week. On the morning of the eighth sunrise it is not Fitz who comes down the slope, but a woman; the same woman she remembers from her first night in the waters of the Scottish coastal town.  

“What have you done to my cousin?” Jemma hears the woman yell from where she stands at the water’s edge.

She swims closer to the shore, though she is hesitant to do so, “I haven’t done anything to him, he returned on his own. I haven’t even seen him since he returned to you days ago.”

“That’s not what I meant; he’s changed.”

Jemma tilts her head, confused by the woman’s words, “Changed how?”

The woman shakes her head, “He talks of leaving, that he’s had enough of this town. He wants to go to sea, to go to England and try his luck with his foolish inventions over there.”

The slightest form of a smile forms on Jemma’s lips; _Fitz listened to her._ “Why hasn’t he come to the shore?”

“My father is keeping him inside. Now, I think it’s best for you to leave here before the others come down.”

Jemma nods, swimming out further before dropping below the surface and finding her way back to her cavern. She thinks about leaving, though as she considers the option over in her head she’s unsure if she remembers the way she came. Regret settles over her as she sits on a rock under the surface, admiring the few fish that dart past her. “I shouldn’t have left.” She remains stationary for some time, thinking over the route back to her family in her head. She remembers traveling north and hopes if she travels south, she will find a familiar face.

When she brings her head up to the surface for a final look, she sees something swimming towards her, entering the cavern with weak strokes. The figure is breathy, struggling to stay above the shore. She doesn’t question who it is, but swims over to support the figure from slipping under.

“I’m so sorry,” Fitz’s words come between coughs, eyes closed as he fights to stay conscious. 

She keeps him upright, helping him to sit on one of the lower ledges. He coughs water onto the rocks while she keeps hold of his hand. “Why did you come?”

“Mary said you were gone; I wanted to see for myself.”

“And if I were gone what would you do? You’re not exactly a strong swimmer.”

He coughs again, more water pouring from his mouth, “I knew you wouldn't leave.”

Jemma squeezes his hand, resting her head on the cold stone ledge and listening as Fitz’s breathing begins to even out. She doesn’t know how she’ll get him back to shore, but for now is grateful that there is still life in him.

An hour later she lets go of his hand and tells him she’s going to check to see if the shore is empty. Seeing that it is, she returns to him and carefully has him get on her back. She’s not sure how well it will work, but is willing to try for the sake of delivering him safely to the shore. It’s not a large distance, but the added weight causes her to take longer. As she swims, she’s mindful of the waves that crash around her and she is fortunate they are low. Entering the shallow water, she lets him off and he stands with shaking legs. The water comes to his waist, though he leans down so they are he is at eye level with her.

“Thank you, Jemma.”

She smiles, bringing her hands up to touch his cheeks. She moves closer and pushes her lips to his in a soft kiss. She quickly parts, taking her hands off of his face and swimming a few paces back. She gives him the words “goodbye” before she slips under the surface and begins her journey south. Jemma doesn’t resurface her head and she’s unsure if he’s still standing there, but lifts a hand above the water to give a final goodbye before she departs, knowing it is for the best that she rejoins her family.

 _I hope to see you on the seas_ , she thinks to herself in hopes that they will one day meet again.


End file.
